


A book of a ghost

by UlsPi



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia and Jaskier | Dandelion Go To The Coast, Ghosts, Implied/Referenced Suicide, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29129274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UlsPi/pseuds/UlsPi
Summary: Geralt is a ghost. At least it's what he thinks. He doesn't remember much and doesn't know much. He seems to be waiting for someone, but he doesn't remember that either, until that someone comes along.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59





	A book of a ghost

Geralt doesn't remember when and how he became a ghost. There are days he's not certain he's a ghost, and there are days when he thinks he's always been  _ this _ . He remembers being trained in those halls and going through some horrific events in those dungeons, but he can't be certain that it really happened. Maybe it's just a part of his visions; maybe he himself is a vision and feels a kind of camaraderie, kinship to the things that come to his mind; maybe he's just that - a restless mind. He knows he  _ is.  _ He knows that he wanders around Kaer Morhen, empty and crumbling. There's no one else. He's not sure there was someone. He's mostly fine with being alone. 

He ventures outside, although not often. He doesn't feel bound to the place, he can leave it, he did leave it, but in the end he prefers the relative safety of the old keep. Outside animals freeze in fear when they see him. He suspects it has always been like that, yet when he ventured down the mountain once, the people in the village by the foot of the mountain didn't pay him much notice. 

Geralt can see his reflection in the lakes and rivers and clear ice. He doesn't recognise himself, but that says little, because he doesn't know if he had always been like that. 

The time is of no importance. Geralt knows that seasons change, but he doesn't bother counting them, it doesn't even come to his mind. 

People eventually come to Kaer Morhen, and it becomes a museum, then an estate, then a hospital, then a prison, then a museum again. It's a hotel, at one point, and at another it's abandoned again. 

Geralt welcomes the lack of senses. He likes that he doesn't need to eat or to sleep. He likes that he can meditate and remain suspended in blissful nothingness, although there are days, clear and bright, when he feels that someone must be coming. Someone he's been waiting for. If he concentrates, he catches glimpses of a smile, of astonishing blue eyes, of music, of songs. These are the days he is certain that he's Geralt. He used to be alive, he was a witcher, he had brothers and a few friends. He had a daughter. 

The joy is quickly replaced by worry, for he doesn't know where they all are now. He wonders if they became ghosts as well. He wonders if he can feel them if he thinks of them alone, but he doesn't have enough memories to do anything but wonder. 

He likes to imagine what they were like. Such feasts of imagination are always followed my unbearable sadness as well. 

Mostly he prefers not to think. 

One day he sits on the roof which would have crumbled under his weight, had he had any. He watches the birds fly by, he loves the way the wind blows right through him. He's one with it all. He's at peace. 

That is, until someone sits next to him. He turns his head sharply. Humans don't see him, but that's no human. It's a ghost, just like him, but a beautiful one. It's blue and yellow, its cheeks are pink and the eyes - blue. So blue.

It's a man, well, a ghost of a man, and the ghost looks at Geralt with adoration and happiness. 

"Well, hello, Geralt. I see you still tend to sit and brood. How are you?" 

Geralt stares at the man, at the ghost. He sees that he looks very - real. He's transparent, alright, but he's all colour and life. 

"Who the fuck are you?" Geralt asks. 

"Oh.." The ghost's face falls, the colours fade and dim. He's just as grey and dull as Geralt himself. "I took too long, didn't I? Dear heart, don't you remember me at all?"

"I don't remember much," Geralt admits begrudgingly. "I know you?"

"Apparently, not anymore."

The blue-eyed ghost stays by Geralt, looking over the mountains and valleys and the sky. 

"You do remember who you are, though?" The ghost asks hopefully.

"I am… Geralt."

"Yes, you are," the ghost smiles. His hair is brown and all - soft, fuzzy around the ages, chestnut brown, pretty. This ghost is very, very pretty. 

"Were you looking for me?" Geralt asks.

"I was. I missed you."

Geralt thinks of all the times he felt as if he had been missing someone or something. It's not a pleasant sensation, Geralt doesn't wish it upon anyone, let alone someone who's so bright and colourful. Someone who smiles at Geralt and seems to be unable to take his fill of looking at Geralt. It's - lovely, to be looked at like that. To be seen. 

"So you know me, then?" Geralt asks. He's not sure he wants to learn anything about himself, but it's comforting to know that he has an opportunity to do so. Comforting - and alarming. 

"I do know. I've always known you."

"And - I used to know you too?" Geralt asks again. 

"You did."

"What's your name? Maybe I'll remember. I don't remember much."

"Oh, darling, I'm so sorry I took so long. I've been looking for you. I've been looking for you everywhere, Geralt."

"Everywhere?"

"Yes. There's no place I haven't gone to, looking for you. They all laughed at me, I'm sure you'd have laughed at me as well. I can't believe I'd have preferred that instead of… You know, nevermind. I've found you. Can I stay with you now?"

"Sure. It's a big place. There's enough for both of us."

The ghost laughs and sobs in one go, as if split in two. "Thank you, Geralt."

"You haven't told me your name, though. How did I call you?"

The ghost laughs. "You called me  _ bard. _ "

Geralt notices a lute on the bard's back. It's beautiful, likely elven work. Geralt knows he can't touch things, but the bard seems to suffer no such trouble. 

"Are you any good?" Geralt asks. 

"I used to be very famous." The bard smiles proudly. "I made you famous too. It was a long, long time ago. No one remembers us anymore."

"Doesn't answer my question," Geralt grunts. The bard bursts out laughing. 

"You haven't changed at all, darling! Yes, I was good. You didn't like it, or so you said."

Geralt nods. He can feel an echo of a memory, something so vague that he's not sure it's there at all. 

"Your lute… it's not a ghost, is it?"

"No, Geralt. My lute is very solid."

"I tried touching things. It never works."

"Did you  _ want  _ to touch those things? Because I figured out quite early that you have to really want to touch it. I'm sure I can touch you."

Geralt startles. He doesn't remember being touched. He doesn't remember wanting it - but he does now. So he nods, answering an unasked question. 

The bard holds his hand, his fingers fit so well between Geralt's. He's warm. 

"You're a strange ghost."

"I am. I became one out of my own volition."

"You - killed yourself?" Geralt is horrified by the notion. The bard is too alive even as a ghost. What might have made him want to die. 

"I didn't. I made a few - deals." The bard chuckles.

"Deals?"

"I'm a good bard. Some creatures do appreciate a few nights of entertainment in exchange for something I might want."

"And - you wanted to become a ghost?"

"Can't look through every underworld being alive, now can I?" He's playful. Geralt thinks he's an idiot. He can't stop looking at him. Everything else fades out. Or it's just dark. Geralt doesn't know what to answer. 

"Hmm."

"Indeed. Oh dear, oh my  _ dearest _ , I'm so happy to have found you… Hey? This place has pipes, right?" He asks in a voice full of mischief. 

"Yes. Sure."

"Then why don't we travel through them? It's fun! We aren't restricted by the size anymore!" The bard winks. Geralt squeezes his hand - and looks down in shock.

The bard bites his lips and tags Geralt to stand up - and then they fly. 

Geralt has learnt that he doesn't weigh anything but it hasn't even occurred to him that he could - fly. Or float. Or walk through a waterfall and giggle because it's ticklish. He has to walk through walls and doors, fine. But it's not much fun. He hasn't had fun in - forever. 

The bard pulls him along as they - as he, the bard, plays in and around and with the place. They flow with the water up and down the pipes, they slip through every crack - just to get smaller and then bigger. 

They dive into a lake nearby and follow the water underground, into the soil and caves.

The bard pets a mole. 

Geralt suddenly remembers that he can cast fire - so he lights a fire by the decrepit gates of the keep and they dance in the flames.

It might be days and it might be hours and it might be millenia. The keep is in a much sorrier state when they return, which saddens Geralt, but the bard touches his face.

"We could restore it, if you want."

"I can't touch anything, remember?"

"You have to want it, remember?" The bard asks back, teasingly.

"I don't want to restore it," Geralt says, somewhat shocked. He doesn't want things - he didn't want them, until the bard appeared. 

"Then let's ruin it some more!" With a whoop the bard soares and begins to toss the boulders and rocks like a drunken giant. Geralt hears himself laugh.

Afterwards they sit on the oldest tree which they climbed from inside, together with the water the tree rushes upwards to its leaves. The bard plays his lute and sings quietly. 

"If you used to know me, then why don't you tell me what happened?" Geralt asks suddenly.

The bard's fingers slip off the lute and he looks at Geralt in fear. Geralt recoils, but the bard grabs his hand and brings it to his lips, plush and warm. 

"You're a ghost because you've had an unfinished business. I'm afraid that if I tell you everything, you'll disappear… But that's selfish of me!" Geralt sees the bard wipe away his tears - silver strings running down those cheeks. 

"So… you are Geralt of Rivia. You are a witcher. You're the kindest and noblest soul I've known. The day we met, you were ready to sacrifice your life for me, although I annoyed you. I annoyed you a lot afterwards. 

"See, we were captured by the elves. I followed you because I was young, horny and in search of an adventure. They wanted to kill us, but you… you saved us both. I got my lute that day. And you got my heart. 

"We traveled together. We parted sometimes. You'd come here for winter. I'd leave for a bardic competition or to teach in Oxenfurt or to fuck my way through the Continent. 

"Still you had my heart.

"You met a sorceress, Yennefer of Vengerberg. You needed her help to save me…"

The bard stops talking. "Why don't I just show you? I'm sure I can do it."

He presses his forehead to Geralt's. "Just… take a look. You can, if you want. It works only if you want."

It feels like a long-forgotten dream. It doesn't bring Geralt anything but his memories. There's no regret and no anguish. Elves, Ciri, Yennefer, the dragon hunt… The dragon hunt…

Geralt sharply moves away from the bard. Jaskier. His name is Jaskier. He followed Geralt and took care of him. He was a nuisance. He was a treasure. 

"It's alright, it's alright, darling, you found me afterwards, you did," Jaskier whispers. 

Geralt keeps remembering. He found his child of surprise, Ciri, and then they found Yennefer, wounded and weak. 

Jaskier found them all in a clearing, too slow to run away from the Nilfgardian army. 

Jaskier tried to help them and Geralt tried to apologise, and it was all yelling and screaming - and a kiss, just so Geralt would shut up. Geralt looks up at Jaskier. 

"Yes, I really needed you to shut up," Jaskier says through the tears. "You wouldn't listen otherwise."

Jaskier gave them his own horse, Pegasus. 

And stayed in the clearing, pretending to be wounded.

He was captured. He spun a tale about Geralt and Ciri, a very good tale that had the Nilfgardians looking anywhere but in the direction of Kaer Morhen, where Geralt took Ciri and Yennefer. 

Jaskier talked his way out of the captivity and spent several years leading his captors along a false trail.

Jaskier ran away and hid. 

He sent a word to Geralt. It was early winter. Ciri was with Yennefer. Geralt was the first to arrive to the keep, excited and…

"You're remembering," Jaskier whispers in awe and holds Geralt. 

_ He was excited, elated, he was happy. Jaskier was coming, Jaskier was coming to  _ **_him_ ** _ , finally. They'd talk, Geralt would make every effort, they'd never part again.  _

_ Geralt was so beyond himself that he paid no attention to what Vesemir said, he just wanted to make the keep look as welcoming as it could, so he hurried to fix everything that needed fixing… _

_ The archway collapsed over him, although Vesemir tried to push him away, but in the end both Witchers ended up under the bricks… _

Geralt looks up at Jaskier. 

"Yes, darling. We never met afterwards. You think I'd let you go that easily?" Jaskier touches Geralt's face with reverence and awe.

"What did you do, you idiot?" Geralt whispers back, holding on to Jaskier's hands. He doesn't know he's doing it and Jaskier is too distracted to notice. 

"Yen and Ciri felt it. They came here, picked me up along the way. Ciri was furious… Yen, too. They just… they just left. Yen tried to drag me with them. I promised I'd come and visit. Of course I never did." Jaskier shakes his head.

"What did you do? What did you do, you impossible, beautiful idiot?" Geralt hugs Jaskier. 

"I stayed until your brothers came. Lambert refused to do anything to restore the keep and fucked off to his Cat. Eskel went with him. They tried to bring me along. I hid in the library.

"I spent that winter here, reading. Then I traveled and… as I have told you already, made a few deals. I looked for you. It was just so… It was unfair. We loved each other and we didn't get a single day together like that - as lovers, as partners… I wanted to marry you. I wanted to stay by your side forever. And some ancient building took you away from me. 

"I went everywhere. So many worlds and underworlds, so many creatures, so many people… And couldn't find you. In the end I thought I'd come back here - and there you were. You were waiting for me, dear heart. And I spent literal ages looking for you. How typical of me, isn't it?"

Geralt holds him closer and closer. "You found me. You found me. You found me. I still have a lot of unfinished business here. Jask…"

Geralt kisses him. "Why don't… Why don't we go to the coast now? I'd love to come with you. We can fly there!"

Jaskier laughs and moves off the branch to float in the air. Geralt joins him. 

"You know, love, always wanted to sit on a cloud. And now we can!"

They soar to the nearest cloud, facing the moon. There's no rush. They'll travel with the wind. It might take time, but for once, they have all the time in the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments help Geralt and Jaskier have more adventures


End file.
